#9: Object Lesson Gone Wrong.

Ah, object lessons.  Dramatic demonstrations used to drive home a point.  You know the ones I am talking about....boiling frogs in a pot to demonstrate gradual decline into sin (I've been afraid of both frogs and stoves since first hearing this), driving near a ledge to demonstrate an attitude of "How far can I go and still be okay?", silver being refined in a fire to demonstrate personal growth from trials, filling a jar with marbles and sand to demonstrate priorities, etc.  Object lessons have great merit, and they can really help to drive home a point.  However, sometimes that point can be missed entirely.  For example:


When I was a senior in high school, I thought I was "the man".  I was on Seminary Counsel, I got asked to the first girl's choice dance of the year (thanks Tara!), I was in the West Jordan High School Madrigals Choir, and I had a great looking haircut.  One winter Sunday night, we had a fireside at my Stake Center where the missionaries were teaching a lesson about the power of faith.  Since they understood the value of a good object lesson, they decided to use one such object lesson on that Sunday night.  They piled up two stacks of bricks and put one brick on top of the others.  They then placed a phonebook on top of the single brick.  The missionaries then shared their object lesson: sometimes your life will have trials and challenges (like a brick), but if you act with faith (using your hand to hit the phonebook), you will be able to break the brick.  The missionaries then asked for volunteers to "demonstrate their faith" by breaking the brick.


Remember how I thought I was "the man"?  Well, I volunteered to go first. 

Lesson learned #1:  Sometimes object lessons can be painful.  Oh, and I hate bricks.


You want to know what made it even worse?  My older sister Amy tried to break the brick next.  It was no problem for her.


Lesson learned #2: Humility.


You want to know what made it even more worse?  My mom had to take me to the hospital to get a brace since I sprained my hand.


Lesson learned #3:  Mom's are nice.